What once was precious
by Carmyn
Summary: After so much destruction, so many losses on both sides, so many terrible expiriences- things are bound to change. What used to be important now is thing of past. Bartimaeus x Nathaniel, it will be an 8-shot, and I have no idea how to write a good summary... just read :)
1. Chapter 1

hi, this is my first published fanfiction, no one ever read my work- so please judge and comment but nicely :) about this fanfic- it's yaoi (Bartimaeus and Nathaniel), it's not an AU (it'll explain itself in later chapters), I tried not to make them OOC (but I'm not so...)... what else- there are 8 chapters (actually only 7 already exist), none of them is epic long but this fandom is still small and poor- be happy with whatever you get... uh, and sorry for all errors I made, feel free to point them out!

**What once was precious**

A way too soft bed dipped under me and the extra weight of my master's body made me sink even deeper in that rich people's spongy mass of a mattress. His lips moved from mine, going lower, attacking my throat. I didn't have to fake a shudder right _there_, his lips were fucking cold. At least his ministrations got his eyes off my face- I was getting cramps from all these love-making faces I had to produce. Stupid, horny humans...

Oh, don't get me wrong. He was actually quite simple for having sex with, no kinks or dirty talk required, so in any case I could handle him, nothing the great Bartimeaus hasn't seen before. I was kind of relieved that silver chains and whips weren't modern anymore. And that bestiality was now considered sick, cuz you know- once upon a time it was religious, in some tribes, to fuck whatever they considered a deity. Hmm, interesting how that never worked out for me, even if I could take any shape and behave like any creature there is... thought worth pondering, later.

Surprised I never mentioned any of this? Hey, it's not like I can go around saying: I'm Bartimeaus the Great, who built the walls of Uruk and Prague and fucked my way through masters, from Cleopatra to pope. Well, it wasn't a big deal anyway, it was practically written in my job description, between lines 'eat human whenever you can' and 'obey or die'. Same like you expect from the delivery boy to give you chopsticks along with your chinese food. Plus, magicians were pretty kinky folks, sniffing thyme for whole days, so sleeping around with their STD-free slaves was common, even expected, I'd say.

As on a cue, tight grinding of aroused body onto mine, accompanied with heavy breaths in my ear, snapped me from thoughts reminding me to jump from phase 'lie and moan' to phase 'grind and moan'. Mechanically, I did so. Sex was easy, old thing, it never really changed no matter time or partners.

Mindlessly I arched back, giving him more friction, while tangling my pale, pianist fingers in his black locks. My fake breathing sounded like pretty shallow pretence in my ears but I counted on weak human senses to not spot it. I really wasn't into this right now.

Rather, I returned to my gazing up, but spotless ceiling wasn't a thing that could occupy you for long. Especially when you had someone humping you. Between drowning in boredom and depression I even faked a hard on, only for him, maybe that'll get him off (in all meanings) sooner, I wasn't in mood for... Anything actually.

Maybe I just couldn't swallow down the fact that Nathaniel, or John Mandrake how they called him in public, the boy who pestered me for years, one I saved more times than he's worth, one who I grew accustomed to, that same boy who I saw covered in mud and dirt, looking like shit, as well as a dressed up politician version (still looking like shit), was now on me, pushing my thighs apart. Almost funny how things worked out, huh? Had it been anyone else in my position, I would've laughed. Hell, I'd find lungs just so I could suffocate of laughter. Few years ago, if you had told me that Nathaniel is going to become a sex-addict I would've patted you on shoulder compassionately and kindly ask you to give him a dick first.

From the feeling right now he indeed had one already. My insides whined as he pushed himself inside me without moment of hesitation. I bit my lip to keep the pain for myself- it fucking _hurt_ to have something plunged in you even if you were a being of air and fire.

Thankfully, he kept his look down, on my chest maybe, and all I saw was mane of black hair partially hiding curve of his chin and nose. That, and of course his ghostly pale skin, glowing sickly under moonlight cast from the window. From here I could see towers of Whitehall, distant fingers creeping toward dark blue skies. Beats of Big Ben could be heard over Mandrake's frantic breathing and slapping of skin against skin. Ten... Eleven... Twelve, I counted the beats. It was midnight.

Human collapsed on me. He wasn't the lightest thing you would want crushing you, but I stayed still. Funny how much pride I still had, considering everything, and how much I struggled to keep my dignity even as I lay with my legs spread under this man who's hands were still gripping my sides, his erratic breathing hitting my ear.

We didn't stay like this for long.

As expected, as always, he lifted on his arms and got up, like nothing happened, like he wasn't butt naked and sweaty, hair messier than ever and I wasn't gritting my teeth to keep yelps and sighs for myself, yelps from burning pain that moving brought and disgusting feeling of his cum deep in me. Casually, he ran a hand through that mane and found loose pants to pull on, still with no hurry. His eyes never met mine. First few times I thought that he was ashamed, so as a kind friend with lots of understanding, I teased him to no end. All I got was empty look and silence. My opinion, or words in general, meant nothing. Curses, mocking, jokes, songs, burping and dancing (and all of the above at once even), were all falling on deaf ears and blind eyes. And like anyone of my greatness, expirience, wisdom (insert whatever you like), I was taken aback by this rudness. But also... I felt helpless. Whoever this person infront of me was, he surely wasn't that twig of a boy whom I hated with passion. Nope, this one here was not even worth hate, he'd do some good only as a zoo attraction. And even then I wouldn't go to see him.

"Get out.", silence was cut with his mumbled order, quiet but sharp anyway. He didn't even look my way. Too bad- I made such a nice grimace.

Mandrake walked to the window I've been watching through before, eyes as black as room behind him, he never turned the light on for 'occasions' like this. My body was still lounguing on his bed, a bit sensitive from previous abuse, still- may I be damned if I admit to my weakness. Buying some time sounded like a plan, plus since I rarely saw the kid these days, I was worried that he doesn't get sufficent dose of teasing, nowdays everyone around him spoke as if they gargle bleach every morning.

"So soon?", I asked seductively from cushons, wiggling my eyebrows. You'd have to be a man to refuse that. Ehm... Or rather, you'd have to be extremly not a man.

That got his attention for a moment and dark eyes, glowing with moonlight reflection, fell on my form, shamelessly displayed on the bed. Had it been anyone else I'd say that he was checking me out, but his look could be translated only as 'calculating how much longer can I use this horse until it's too racked up'. Mocking smirk tugged corner of his thin lips for shortest second. Than his stare went back to night view.

"You were hardly any good tonight, so better get out while I still feel mercyful.", voice was Siberian cold, and trust me I know just how cold that is. Frankly, while northen Russia could do little when it comes to my sparkling spirits, this expression froze me. It was like someone else had killed Nathaniel before I got my chance. Not fair.

In answer I grinned widely.

"Does that mean that I'll have to be punished?"

One syllable- lightning struck from his pointing finger unexpectedly, so I barely had time to roll out of it's way. Cranky, these kids nowdays.

I wasn't actually surprised. Mustering my strenght I got up, dressed my guise briefly, and walked through door without another word, his eyes followed me out til I closed the door firmly, without glancing back. I'd have to be crazy for even wanting to look back. But I guess craziness is also just a number on the list of my current problems. Probably not even among top ones.

Hours later, while I sat on some nameless roof, and dawn's light was bathing my thin, tan limbs, I still felt... Out of place. Hey, what do you expect to feel in the world where John Mandrake is a sex addict? Nothing held sense anymore, not just Mandrake. To be honest, he was pretty much the last normal thing, in all it's abnormality.

Maybe I was just cranky because I could still feel him, you know. Feel pulsating sensation inside of me, in same beat like his pounding in me, mere hours ago. It angered me. But not only that... there was something else to it. Something I didn't want to think about, something confusing.

Under my roof, on the streets, people were dragging their feet to work. Dull horde watched over by police and jinni. Grey river flowing through the filthy, grey city. Citizens ready for another day in their respective places at assembly line of industry.

I hugged Ptolemy's form, protecting it from the morning breeze. Looking down again, I hoped that I'll maybe see Kitty, while still kinda hoping that I won't. It was chilling to witness something that once had hope now walking along with the herd of two-legged cows.

i'm going to sound like total attention whore but, please do review!

Carmyn


	2. Chapter 2

so here is second chapter... I wanted to post it tomorrow, but I'd feel a bit guilty- it's not special enough to deserve a delay :) I wanted to thank to my first reviewer, peckforever :) really put a smile on my face...

enjoy reading...

**What once was precious**

Chapter 2

Hangar was cold and old, everything in it was either dead grey or rusty, reminding me of a frige, where something crawled up and died. It smelled similarly too. Metal bars were sticking in air here and there, once maybe part of some construction, now just threatening to make head-skewers. That, along with whole frigde atmosphere, made you want to run away before the smell of dried blood, cat urin and rotten, chopped off fingers sunk too deep in your skin.

Oh, and by the way- it was a chicken slaughterhouse so it also had loads of feathers littering the floor and you shouldn't be too surprised if you found a bird-leg or an eye maybe. Fluffy feathers of young birds were ideally floating through the whole hall. They might've given you wrong impression of this place if it weren't for the birds screaming from their cages in the furthest corner. Along with them, workers were yelling things like: "move out of the way!", "bring new ones", "don't throw featers around!". I don't know which ones irritated me more. Birds, humans- what was the diference actually?

But I was here for Kitty so I guess some sacrifices had to be made.

Currently I was sitting on a long pult where women were working, from little girls to old hags who looked like they'll die and their hands will continue their long-years work, clutching and pulling out feathers. It was a rather poor sight, but that's all that London was reduced to in last months. War in America and demon rebellion left the country in disastrous economic state, so our dearest leaders made a plan- put everything that can obey their orders into industry. Citizens of London could do little against it- they needed jobs, money. And when hard work and food shortages united with bad living conditions they became sickness, brawls, pain which, in the of the day, mixed and deposited as one suffocating despair. As a result of the equation above, right in front of me, was a child, no more than five year old boy, sitting by his mother's legs, watching me with unblinking, starving eyes. It was disturbing in some way, making it hard to follow what Kitty was saying.

"...he is still asking, more like begging, me to move to Czech to his family! How is moving from here gonna help anything?!", Kitty was raging. Good thing she had a dead chicken to abuse in her hands, otherwise I might be concerned for my personal safety.

I decided to intervene before she became even more puffer-fish like.

"And why not? I think I heard Czech is lovely in this time of the year..", I moved my yellow, cat eyes from that creepy child to her, genuinely interested in her reasons.

In response I got something between an unbelieving look and pure, poisonous glare. Yes Kitty was lively these days, with most of her wrinkles and grey hair gone she yet again walked tall and proud. Well, as proud as you can be when treated like an animal by magicians.

"What?! Were you even listening to me for last... hour!?"

Her lungs were very healthy as well.

" No, but look-''

'' Don't you 'look' to me! I can't just leave like a _coward_!'', nonexistant word in Kitty's vocabulary, '' And what about all people here!?'', she hissed, pulling out handful of feathers.

'' Honestly- what do you plan to do here? Fight the enemy? How? Choke them with those feathers? Plant rotten chicken in their dinner?", this was one thing I never picked up from humans, no matter time I spent with them, their need to lie about cruelty of truth.

Kitty glared at me but put her anger in plucking out the feathers.

"Good to see you so optimistic."

" It's called realism.", I corrected her while licking one midnight black paw, wishing I had a finger to raise to emphasise my point. This wishful thinking was only clouding her mind and was she happy? Either way- no. Uhh, frailty thy name is _human_!

"We were having the exact same conversation before demon rebellion and we made it that time-"

"You call this...", cat looked around, over women bent over their work and that child creepily staring at me, "...successful?", cat arched an eyebrow, if that's even possible, "Interesting definition."

She glared and opened mouth to retort but it seemingly died, along with I-wish-you-burn stare, after one scanning around. Some of her co-workers returned their tired gazes to their work. Of course they were listening in on us. They always did that. That's one of the reasons why I wasn't thrown out (even if I should've been reported to the police by protocol)- I was their news from above. But also, now that commoners realised we are all under the same boot, they gave us, spirits, that kind of tolerance you have only for a man who knows, and feels, your pains. As a jinni, washed over and over by this world, I can say it was nice change.

Kitty was silent for a moment so people around would lose interest. I hoped she won't return to the previous topic. We discussed it over and over... it brought no good. But maybe I wished too soon, because when her eyes fixated on me they had some 'I can see through your pretences' quality. Why is she always doing that? I can look however I want, so there is no use in doing that scanning thing. I changed my color few times to prove it (humans around gave me some looks but otherwise they were pretty accustomed to it). Kitty acted as if I did nothing, eyes still piercing, studying me- maybe she was colorblind.

Before I could propose my theory-

"Mandrake... _used_... you again... didn't he?", she said quietly, probably to protect my privacy. Funny, these humans- prying yet taking such care that no one finds out...

My eyes maybe twiched a bit after hearing this but exept that there was no fucking way she gathered it from looking at me. Nope, there were no leftovers of those greedy wizard paws.

"And just why would you think that?", I asked cautiosly. If it were my choice, she would've never found out but since few low-life foliots decided it for me, when they cracked few juicy jokes infront of Kitty (I took good care that they can never speak again...), she acted as if she had a say in this shit. She even went as far to call him a rapist. Which would be very correct word if I weren't his slave- he could kill me and not be called a murderer.

" Because you are behaving like a bitchy teenager with pms?"

Now, _that_ surprised me. Where were those times when girls at least pretended to be fine ladies? Gone, obviously. And I wasn't behaving like pmsing teen girl. Really.

"I'm not.", and I also didn't pout.

She coughed and fell silent, wanting to provoke me to speak. Well, I didn't fall for those stupid tricks anymore, too old for that. So instead of giving in and talking my essence out I opted for fairly unused tactic and walked away. At least I wanted to.

Cold, dead chicken was slammed on the pult infront of me. Kitty was soon on her feet, leaning into my cat-face with a therapist expression. Oh, how I hated those.

"What?", I asked knowing that therapy-face will never speak first.

"You should talk about it!", was that hysteria? I soooo had to get out of here.

"To whom? You?", I wanted to chuckle like expert but it came out like sound of ice cubes falling against the cold floor. Trying to fix the impression I said: "Nah, that's not for virgin ears of yours."

Insert a toothy grin. She only arched an eyebrow.

"You think that I got through all this and kept my ears intact? Sheesh... You don't know a thing.", her hands lifted from pult to rest on her hips instead, though her face stayed on same inch-from-my-face distance.

I blinked, still having no wish to confide in her. It was no biggy and that's exactly why it shouldn't be talked about. Would you talk about killing a fly? Call it conservative and ignorant but my mouth was, for once, shut tight.

" Then who will you talk to? Bartimaeus, I'm your friend... last time I checked- your _only_ friend."

Arrogant bitch. I deemed that question unworthy of answering.

" God damn it! That piece of shit is a rapist! Don't you want him to be charged?", she held herself back, I could practically hear the- Imprisoned? Killed and castrared?- part, and kinda guessed she'd take care of castration. Uhh- ot even 'the evil me' wanted to see that. I sighed, tiredly did a paw-face.

" Seriously, Kitty, you're... beating a dead fish. Like rotten, already greenish, long gone, goo of a fish. Just be and let it be and all that wise stuff. And, as always, I'll be just fine.", I ended it in a no-compromise tone with an ominous look which stopped even greater men, and women, than her- pharaohs and such. Just what was it that made her keep going? Courage? Stubborness? Caring? Curiosity? Or pure and utter stupidity?

" When was it that you were 'oh so fine' on your own? All times I recall you were getting yourself in trouble-"

That was the end of my tolerance. I could handle quite a number of insults but I already had too much on my plate, didn't need her adding to it.

" Oh, gotta go- world needs me.", I chirped out and jumped swiftly on the floor so she couldn't catch me. Switching topic and excusing yourself? Most genious strategy ever. Smooth and all.

" See you later.", I waved as I puffed out of sight, leaving a cyclamen-pink cloud which matched Kitty's face nicely.

if you read this far you can as well review... thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

this one took quite some time to re-read and correct- my stupid half-disgraphic fingers :/ I think this one is a tiny little bit longer...

**What once was precious**

Chapter 3

So I was on my own again, warming my ass on a nice chimney of a nice family house in a nice neighbourhood, my feet ideally dangling in nice, warmish humid air of a nice afternoon. Why couldn't all that niceness magically pour itself into me? I was never a fan of depressiveness and all this dreary stuff fell hard on my essence which should, considering it's age, be treated nicely, with lots of respect.

Again that fucking word. _Nice_. I kinda wanted to pull it out of my mind-dictionary and stuff it in this chimney, head down, so I could fly away as a free spirit. Unfortunately, expirience told me that words can't be violated in that way. Really too bad.

I don't know what was wrong with me- I was pretty much free to go wherever I wanted, like that time in Prolemy's service. Why wasn't I feeling joyus about it than? Or curious enough to leave London? It's not like I had anywhere to go here. There was only Kitty, as she so proudly stated, and I kind of didn't have a wish to talk to her any time soon.

And no it wasn't just 'fucking with Mandrake' thing. If she insisted, I'd tell her all about it, from his size to what kind of faces he makes when he comes.

However there was no point to it. Kitty wasn't playing spanish inquisition just cuz she was worried for me, she also wanted something else to think about, someone else's problems to solve rather than to face her own. It was like... while taking time to judge me for lack of confiding she sure didn't mind keeping things for herself. _But_, unlike certain thick-headed miss, I gathered fairly quickly that her financials, Jacob, parents and obvious lack of food and sleep were a don't-mention topics. And I didn't really want to know, I didn't have the right kind of morbid curiosity. Plus, I couldn't comfort people even if my life depended on it. Some things that human, such petty little being, knew by birth totally escaped high entities of Other place.

Oh well, can't have everything.

A farmiliar tugging gripped my essence. Precise like acupuncture and gentle as bulldozer.

Mandrake again.

In this particular moment I just wished, more than ever, that summoning is like a phone that you can hang up on... after cursing colorfully for few minutes and plugging it out, along with certain amount of wall, to dance all over it in some rather heavy, military boots.

Yeah, dreams and wishes, nasty little things. So I reasonably gave up all resistance and let the summon take me to...

Mandrake's library. Which also served as his private study.

Old, cosy style of whole house was visible here too, in this room ful of dark-wood furniture, thick carpets you sunk into, emerald green or crimson red pillows and other similar accessories. Book shelves rose up to the ceiling and only cleared enough of wall-space to fit in a door and two tall windows. It was kind of a pitty that he planned on renewing whole place in a modern, minimalistic, all-white-and-glass style that his dead teacher, miss Whitwell, prefered. Ehh, but cut him a slack, will ya? After all, he was an insecure, depressive, paranoid, sexaholic, lonely, possibly sociopath, kid who wanted to fill in too large shoes- it's not like you can expect him to be a good interior designer, right?

But decor was the last of my worries while I stood there, infront of a work desk where he was sitting and filling out some forms. Black bangs, a bit less messy than last I saw him, were hanging low above his paper and tensed pale hand, matching his scrunched shoulders, was franticly writing something even I would call hieroglyphics. Tiredness was seeping out of him in slow, inert waves, black as the wrinkled attire he wore.

I halted in perfecting my guise of a pale, gold-haired, green-eyed, tall youth when few things clicked in my mind. For first time in months he looked actually normal- wore out and weak as anyone at his position of a _prime minister_ (of course he got the position- he was the last competent magician alive!) should be. The load of that responsiblity only magnified by the fact that he was sorrounded by idiots- small magicians who managed to survive but couldn't deal with their jobs on high functions. Until now, he went along with it like a cold-ass-face robot. Right now, I saw him crack. And that happened just one other time... and that was because of me (when I lied about Kitty's survival, remember?)... So whatever it was, I had a hell of a competition.

But... Why was I worried about him rather than myself? Why couldn't all the cinisim of my world burry the fact that I dreaded of the day he'll suddenly die of a heart attack? What was so special about him? Sure, things like ugly puppies, blind kittens and messed up kids had some sticky 'pick me up and care' quality which wanted to cloud my judgement, but I was a kick-ass jinni! I don't, I shouldn't, care!

Good that, even unconciously, Mandrake always took good care to be hated.

" Don't have anything to say?", he looked up from papers for the shortest second,"That would be the first.", he answered before I could.

" Huh? Who said I don't have something to say?"

" Usually when you think something you say it right away.", he said in a 'sun rises in the East' tone. I could see a teenage girl version of Mandrake, with hand resting on hip, lollypop in mouth, saying 'duh'.

That image amused me so much I didn't even pay attention that he was trying to say that I'm glib. Whatever. In any case- I certainly wasn't the one leading this conversation. Even if it started to sound so much like little banters _I_ would pick with Nathaniel, this time it was the other way around.

"And just why do you think you deserve to hear my five millenia of wisdom?", I crossed my arms and tilted my pretty head.

From where I stood above him, I swear that I heard something like amused scoff and saw his lips twich upwards... But than again, it could be just a lip-twich in annoyance as he read through pink paper. Next grunt he made was certainly connected with flourescent thingy which ended ripped in two and thrown in trash-box.

" What's up with all the violence? It used to be a tree, a living being with feeli-", I clutched at my white shirt, where heart should be. Of course it wasn't about some fucking tree! Now that we were actually speaking after months of ignoring I couldn't let the chance to tease him slip.

It earned me an actual look longer than ten seconds, it almost connected with my eyes. Almost, it was burning through my forehead.

" Forget I said anything. It's better when you're silent.", he muttered and returned to his papers.

Mandrake signed few more of them, stocked them together, very silent all of a sudden.

'' Right... I hope you didn't call me to watch as you scribble around- I'm aware that you are literate.''

Wow, that got me one more piercing look, this time directly in the eye. Bemused I watched as he pursed his lips tightly in attempt to hide... a smile? He escaped my inspection, leaning above his papers again.

" This invitation..." he searched for a particular one and moment later fished it from a pile. It was made of some yellowish paper as if to look old while you could actually still catch smell of press-machines on it.

" What's that?", my nose wrinkled at it, predicting trouble.

" The British museum is opening a new exhibit, I'm expected to appear, support the culture.", he waved invitation around before putting it on my side of his desk, implying me to read it.

" And I should know it why?"

" Don't play dumb. I'm a prime minister, I can't walk around unguarded. And since I can't seem to find a decent afrit-guard...", he snorted again focused on his oh-so-important papers. Right, I remember how he summoned lots of afrits in some period, trying to find a good and powerful servant. It was interesting to notice how we had to call firefighters, renovators and builders very oftenly during the same time.

" Oh please, a foliot would be enough to protect you skinny ass.", I muttered, shortly forgeting that I was not speaking to _Nathaniel_. I hurried to correct myself (even if two had same stick of an ass, this one didn't have tolerance for insults, however true they may be) and said louder: "I certainly don't need extra education on history, being the one who created pretty large part of it, but that novice, for example... what is his name, again? You know...That one who can't synchronize number of fingers on his limbs...?"

" Xerxes.", Mandrake suplied, leaning on his elbow, lips tightly pressed together, watching me with arched eyebrow.

" Yeah, _that_ guy could use some culture...", I nodded expertly, crossing my arms.

Huh, he didn't seem convinced when he huffed and said:

" Upbringing of jinni is hardly my part... I already picked you.", last few words were accompanied with an unreadable look. Very closed off, stern even, yet it carried weight of a soul... and if his eyes were dark before, now they grew even darker. They reminded me of something, someone?, called me to drown in them, warmed me up and held me tight in place with that gentle strenght.

As if someone flipped a switch, Mandrake averted his gaze to his wrist clock.

" Some collegues of mine are coming over for dinner...'', he stated tiredly, maybe even nervously.

'' Ya know, they can eat at their homes as well... I can make'em'', I proposed rationally.

Second of deep rethinking...

'' No, I have to be loved by lower workers and that cattle is usually well pleased by food and some attention.''

'' Mhm,'', some cultures did just fine by using whips and torture, '' I'll leave you to it.''

''... I still have half an hour", he said in flat voice, not the a-bit-stressed-but-polite-chatting tone he spoke in before. Mandrake leaned back in his office-chair, looking at me expectantly but never in the eye.

Sudden change left me literally off balance as I, out of habit, emediately took his hint and wanted to approach, yet hesitated for a moment. Former part won and took me to stand before Mandrake, relaxed in chair. Those eyes, of just a moment before, were lost, lust replaced them. My own expression went dull. Somehow, I don't think he noticed.

" Kneel."

Good I didn't have to ask for explanation. I'm not so sure I would've been able to contain something between a scream and bile that was boiling in my throat.

* * *

Nothing special to say... but I love both writing and reading (other) author's notes :)


	4. Chapter 4

so... chapter 4 (thank to my Physics teacher for not getting this earlier :/), there are some flash backs, I found them needed at this point so hopefully they won't bore you to death :)

Also- words in _italics _(foreign ones) will be explained in the end of the chapter (don't be insulted by my explanations if you already knew it)

I wanted to point it out before chap 3 but forgot- Xerxes (who was mentioned there) is an OC and this Polly appearing here is an OC too, both are unimportant and serve mostly as a background... that would be all, read on ;)

**What once was precious**

Chapter 4

_Alexandria 125. BC_

I was getting bored. As in really fucking, I'll choke of yawning, bored. For someone my age, I was embarrassingly impatient. Good thing I lacked that 'I want to impress people around me' thingy. So, all in all, my feet tapping againts floor wasn't new, but quite unexpectedly, Ptolemy seemed to feel the same, if I were to judge by his jerky shifting on that royal cushion.

While I always liked to disagree with him on important worldly matters, I think we finally found a thing we can hate together- parties. Ptolomy's cousin birthday party to be exact. Which, if you knew the elder Ptolemy, told you quite well about how it went. Piles of food, very pleasant music, dozens of dancers, few tamed, exotic beasts... Hmm, were more women or drinks? In any case- enough of both to satisfy even young prince's needs. Yuck, there he was- sitting in the middle of high ranked visitors, overbriming from his throne with one giggling girl on each knee. Dear gods, he would've developed another hand only if it meant holding two women and a cup at once.

So, much rather, I gave my attention to his younger cousin, my master, behind who's chair I sat, disguised as his human slave. I picked nice appearance for tonight- a young man of 20 years, lean, though not twiggy-thin like Ptolemy, bald, like any slave back then, and with oval, black eyes circled with _kohl_.

"For a 16 year-old you sure are missing a nice chance to get a... Handful, if you know what I mean...", I commented, too bored to sit in silence, and poked one skinny, velvetly smooth arm.

Ptolomy looked at me so indifferently that my grin cracked a bit. Huh. You know that feeling of giving an innocent child a bomb? Or porno?

" Oh nevermind, you don't have to answer-"

" It's alright...", he glanced back at crowd shortly, releasing that ominous stare, "I just don't like my cousin's pick.", he shrugged shyly and turned back to the party completely.

Now that's a discovery! Probably going to hit the first place on my 'amazing discovery list', fuck pyramids and Babylon hanging gardens, Ptolemy was not only confirming that he had some sexual interests but he was being fucking picky about it too!

Ok, so- surprise aside- this also confused me greatly. You see, his cousin did an admirably good job in trying to fit everyone's taste. There were many rare beauties, from midnight black to moonlight pale, shorties, tall ones, all ages and builts... I think I even saw one with beard... Eh, right, my point being- there was wide spectrum of women. Oh.

" Praise _Ra_ in heavens, you are actually a teenager!", I sighed and rose my hands in gratitude to whatever god that controled teen hormones. (Well, Ra was main god, right? Sure he did have his hands in it...)

" Oh shut up.", Ptolomy didn't look at me, trying to keep his normal tone, tough I could see him blushing. Ohh, this was sooo rich...

" So... What are we looking for?", I asked leaning closer and earning his further blushing, "Some exotic prince of fair pale skin? Or maybe a slave... one with big-"

" Bartimaeus!", he squeeked, for the first time since I knew him, interrupting my sentence.

" I was going to say: big, lamb eyes, but you're right- he should have a big di-"

" Stop it right there.", he was watching me sternly, patiently, with one finger raised, " Just beacuse you established all of a sudden that yes- I have desires like other people, doesn't mean I want... Someone right now.", last words came out almost carefully.

I scanned him over. His tanned skin, soft even to look at, elegant thin limbs, slim hips, tight ass (unfortunately out of my sight since he was sitting), flawless chest, long neck, sleek black hair and huge, dark eyes. Yep, those seemed innocent... Hah, innocent my ass.

"Are you saying that you don't?", I arched an eyebrow, leaning on my hands, elbows propped on his arm rests. His face flushed in gentle red shade at my suggestive tone and sudden closeness of our faces.

" No.", he said in a small voice.

And there, for a shortest moment, wide dark abyss of his eyes, with pupils larger than junky's in his highest dreams, went over my body, touching every piece of it just by look, throughly scanning my guise of an egiptian slave, admiring fine shape by following it's every curve...

But it felt like they were actually searching for me. Real me.

In my 5 thousand years that was first, and last, such look.

I puked my guts out for the billionth time this week.

Why was I thinking of _that_? _Mandrake_, bile stung in my throat just at the thought. He is _nothing_ like Ptolemy! Ptolemy _cared_! He respected what I think, want, believe...

White substance in sink looked really weird mixed with bits of my silvery essence, it made me heave again. Disgusting. But even that was better than digestion problems I'd have later so...

Another wave of nausea had me bent over and gripping around for anything that would hold me up.

No luck there. I fell on cold bathroom floor, spasms clenching my body, as I just tried to curl up tighter. This shit was messing with me big time, I don't remember it being this fucked up before, and believe me, I've given lots of blow jobs. So many that I should get a premium membership card at the 'blow job givers group'.

Still, all my expirience gave me no answer to: why did it lately make me wanna both puke and cry until I drown in all those fluids?

My body trembled vigorously. Must be cuz of puking. And cold. Just so cold.

Like Mandrake's eyes then. They may be the same, almost black, color like Ptolemy's but they were nothing alike!

Fuck. Arguing with myself? Not only I was physically fucked up but I was going mental too? It felt like this world carefully counted seconds I spent here then took it's too expensive toll. With time eyes go dull, resistance melts away- you grow accustomed to the ways of the world, you let your problems go with the wind because you can't drag burden like that, that tones and tones of dead weight, for a few millenia. Nothing that happens here is worth pondering, no successes, humiliations, love, hate... None matters. None will stick to me once I'm free to go home, nothing will infect me, once I go home I as a single don't exist anymore, therefore my problems don't exist, neither my pain, only memories- which could be anyone else's as well as mine.

Or at least that's how I tried to look at things as I rose to still shaky feet, feeling like a wrinkled granny who just coughed out her last tea-and-cookies meal along with her persian cat's hair. It wasn't a pretty feeling.

My eyes met their reflection in mirror. While I was occupied with puking, my form somehow molded from slim, tall, pale pianist, one I used around Mandrake, into Ptolomy's comforting body which hugged me in a well-known way. Right now, to me, this wasn't a disturbing thing (although a sane jinni would probably freak out)- my essence was all too used to Ptolemy.

Still not fully balanced on my feet I turned away from the mirror, grabbed the door handle and swung it open, quickly exiting. I didn't pay much thought to the mess I was leaving behind, Mandrake ought to at least wave his hand at servant who'll clean consequences of his little-fucker deeds.

Out, in the hall, I was surprised to meet large, light blue eyes. Young lady infront of batted her long eyelashes in confusion. I stayed by bathroom door caught even more out of balance than I originally was. Oh. Shit.

" I'm sorry, not to be rude but... Who are you?", she asked politely and smell of her thyme-breath teased my nose. Magician, must be one of those John is hosting for a dinner tonight. Great. And seeing how she spoke to me, without hissing spells and curses, she had no idea I wasn't human. Bright.

"...I ...live here.", I said deciding to see just how long will it take for her to figure it, "I assume you are one of Mandrake's guests tonight...?"

" Oh yes, I was just admiring his impressing collection of paintings.", she gestured with her slim glass of champaigne to the walls of the long white hallway (the only part of house, exept salon, that was renewed). Uhuh, just how impressive she considered that one-black-spot-in-field-of-white picture I wondered... Oh please, it was obvious right away that she was just using it as an excuse for snooping around. Couldn't really blame her. Seriously- a 19-year-old attractive, yet single, prime minister of unknown ambitions? It reeked of good gossips.

" I was just wondering- who are you to mr. Mandrake? A relative? A friend? ... Or maybe someone... closer? I mean, that would explain why he never brings lady-friends to parties and other happenings...", she sipped from her glass smiling slightly and observing me from corner of her eyes.

Uhm, right. So how to put that? My relation to Mandrake wasn't a few-word thing.

Unfortunately, or indeed fortunately, Mandrake appeared just then with his generous-host-smile, preventing me from putting the ''I'm his whore but also a person of most trust which can be translated as- his friend, under some circumstances, but usually only a slave he pesters for seven years now and, at the moment, I hate him more then ever'' thing into spoken words. Nevermind.

" Polly, I was wondering where you went...", he gave me a side glance (a very cautious side glance), throwing a charming smile at her (charming in a way, also threatening to kill her for wandering around his house).

" Oh, I was merely looking at your collection of paintings, they are magnificent I have to say, and I stumbled upon your... Friend.", the Polly girl winked at me.

Mandrake wasn't impressed, boring his eyes into my skull for not staying out of guests' sight. Well, it's not like he _comanded_ anything...

" That's only my demon slave."

She gave it a thought, one calculating scan to me, and then her smile returned, a bit devilishly (and pervy if you ask me), as she looked between me and Mandrake, both similarly thrown out of balance by her line of conclusion.

" Doesn't matter. After all that happened, we should learn to be a more open minded society. I'll glady see you both on my garden party, one I told you about, mr. Mandrake. Now that I know about him you musn't come alone!", she warned with amused edge to her tone.

... eehh? What did just happen? And also, was I the only one who noticed that I wasn't asked do I or do I not want to come to some stupid tea party!?

But before we could react with anything other than stunned silence, she smiled again, no pervy qualities this time, and tilted her head to Mandrake.

" Shouldn't we go join other guests now?"

And Mandrake's fate was sealed. Along with mine. There was no one to blame for this wrong time, wrong place situation yet-

'' I'm going to kill you for this.'', he hissed quietly through his teeth while going after the Polly lady.

No one's fault. Exept, maybe, his dick.

* * *

I can't decide whether I like of hate this chapter... whatever- it needed to be done and I promise to redeem myself with chapter 5 ;)

Explanations, just in case : _kohl- _ black make up that Egiptians put around their eyes, _Ra_- the main Egiptian deity, presents the sun... in next chapter there is a bit more of those egiptian words/symbols/whatever merely because I love them ;)

REVIEW **! **(pretty please :)


	5. Chapter 5

i'm soooo sorry for the delay -.- this chapter gave me some, hmm, trouble...

again there are few egyptian words (cuz i loooooveee it), they are in _italics _and explanations can be found at the end of chapter, oh, and there are some flashbacks, also in i_talics _cuz I'm too lazy to find something else...

hope you like;

**What once was precious**

Chapter 5

"You _will _behave... for your own good. There will be many commoners and it would be better if they weren't aware of you being a jinni. They have to think I'm open and trusting to people..."

Oh please, no one who looks at you twice will ever think that you have anything in common with people... Not even genes.

And if he was so sure I'll mess it up, why the fuck was he dragging me along? I might be his oldest, smartest, most expirienced (add whatever you find appropriate) servant, but why me?! I hoped this isn't his twisted version of a date... with his whore.

Huh, wierd thoughts again...

Anyhow, I didn't have any wish to make a ruckus. No wait, that wouldn't be correct... Some ideas indeed crossed my mind and it was always lovely to piss off magicians... yet, I also have this thingy called 'reasoning' which told me that mess isn't something you create when you want to be released, painlessly.

Yep, that was my new tactic around Mandrake, after annoying him to death, yelling his brains out and hating his guts all failed, I returned to plain 'polite and emotionless'. It was my pure brilliance that brought me to this plan... And a fact that fighting the rapist brings him more pleasure than it's of use to you.

"So," Mandrake prepared for the crowds, straightened his tux and hair (he put so much oil in it that he looked like a conserved fish, again), whole time observing only his reflection in the window glass. "We go in, stay for 2 hours, chatting politely, smiling to the cameras, looking presentable.", it seemed like he was talking to himself. Repulsive habit, I heard. Also oftenly connected to egoists...

Even my inner well of sarcastic comments dried up under this shitty mood. Odd thing- to have something non-physical crushed to pieces.

I turned my gaze to the window of his limo. It was raining again. What else to expect? It was London after all. But this evening, there was something especially irritating in hysterical, small drops hitting the glass, sliding down, pooling, ending up carried away because of the car's speed.

Each time we passed under a lamp a pale face, of dull green eyes, propped on a hand returned my stare. My essence itched to change form and I would, this scandinavian pianist wasn't within my favorites, if I were sure that, just out of habit, my essence won't pour into Ptolemy. I wasn't keen on letting his fragile body anywhere near Mandrake's greedy... fingers. None could stain Ptolemy like that. It was something I owed him after everything. Call it respect or admiration but it just wasn't nice to use someone's body as a fucking bag (literally). Ptolemy was probably the closest thing to safety that I had here... To let it fall prey to Mandrake? No. Just _no_.

As if putting a stop to constant darkening of my thoughts, car halted infront of the washed out building of British Museum with splashing sound not so different to puking. Believe me, after last few weeks, I was an expert.

Mandrake's chauffeur opened the door with fine white gloves, ones those dudes always wear, and held out an umbrella. Magician stepped outside, I followed moment later overtaking the umbrella, like I was instructed earlier, and holding it for the shrimp while I myself was getting pissed on by heavens. Oh lovely.

Thankfully, Mandrake moved quickly through the journalists who's cameras started snapping at him immediately. Remembering my bodyguard duty, I helped him swim through crowds. It almost felt like then, over 2000 years ago, when I regularly followed Ptolemy through mass of people, keeping a safe grip on his shoulder, knowing that somewhere among these people might be the ones who wanted to kill him. Fear from that old expirience fell like ice on my stomach and my hand, almost like living a life of it's own, lifted to reach for Mandrake. As if touch will make me sure he is fine.

Silly, that hand of mine.

When we climbed the stairs and finally entered I breathed out a sigh of relief and put stupid umbrella away (its metal construction stung my fingers). Mandrake didn't waste a single moment to rush in. Many magicians, if I were to judge who they were by expensive stylish suits they barely buttoned up, and their wives greeted him with fake smiles. He shook hands with all of them, exchanged a few words, never breaking his pace.

Once completly inside the museum, mixed with crowds, it was harder for others to spot him, that's why Mandrake slowed down and finally turned around.

'' You think they won't notice you here as well?'', I arched an eyebrow and dug my hands in pockets of a black suit I wore for the event. Although sceptical of his hiding, between me and the wall, I played along and shielded him from people.

'' No, I'm sure at least four cameras are focusing on my face right now but at least I'm pretty much done with handshaking.''

I snickered, ful response with light taste of humour? How often do you get that from mr. Mandrake the Prime Minister? So, in order to keep the chatting spirit that hung around, and out of slight curiosity, I asked:

'' So what's this exhibition about?''

'' I thought you needed no lessons on culture.'', he quoted me, very badly mind you.

'' I don't. But it's always funny to see how much the 'truth' changes over the years.'', I looked around. By now I could see that it was about something Egyptian, many pieces of tomb frescoes, reliefs, statues could be seen over tops of human heads. '' Oh, for example, the dude on picture over there. He was a total fatso, unlike what the drawing shows, and the nickname he got was a pure joke, yet history remembers him by it.'', I shrugged.

'' You can read it? Hyerogliphics?'', if you dug deep enough in his voice you could spot some kind of something that maybe was a bit of admiration.

'' I can also burp Greek alphabet but you were not so happy to hear that, if I recall correctly.''

'' So what does this one say?'', he acted as if he hadn't heard the comment while stepping few steps to the right, under piece of wall that once maybe was part of a tomb wall. It was ridiculous if you thought about it- taking some piece of wall to hang it on the wall.

'' Since when are you inerested in this shit?'', I muttered while following.

'' That's one of the crown jewles of whole exhibition. Historian I talked to said that it's a tomb inscription from tomb of some Ptolemy, probably branch of ruling family. And although the deceased is of no historical importance, they are intrigued because they can't dechiper what this says.''

Right. Ptolemy. There were hundreds of men with that name. Ptolomaic dinasty did last long, had many sons named Ptolemy. There was no way, no fucking way but- curiosity got the better of me and I looked up at the painted stone.

It showed a young man, only a boy actually, holding up an _ankh_ and a _was_. His form was the last thing to still have most of the original color. Him... and the lapwing under his feet still had an angry red shade, and it was accompanied by _khet _symbol. Before them, among other symbols, stood out a bull. Great beast, but, as expected in eyiptian painting, the young royalty was the largest among illustrations. Although the lapwing, the _Rekhyt_, was surprisigly big too.

Surprisingly important... It warmed me a little for no explainable reason. I was remembered... somewhere between the lines that no one understood.

Uhh, right, other than those few symbols, there was little you could read, even if you were an expert in reading egyptian symbols... like myself- I, along with my jinni collegues spent terrible amounts of time stuck in drarry tombs drawing that shit for perfectionist egyptian asses. Shame it all eventually became dust that flacked off the walls.

Maybe it was for the best. I don't know if I would be able to withhold myself from distroying that stone if I got to read, first hand, what they wrote as an excuse for Ptolemy's death. Probably all lie, lie, lie scribbled one over another... and then they put _feather of Maat_ enough times to sicken you...

'' -imaeus! Bartimaeus!'', sound got to me like through layers of heavy, cold water. That stupid kid. He was shaking my shoulder.

Tired, more than one is allowed to be after dully staring at one pointless picture, I turned around only to be greated by Mandrake's scowl. Seriously, I don't think he had many expressions that didn't involve scowls. He'll get wrinkles sooner than he naturally should.

For some reason I didn't comment on that. If I speak up it will serve to remind him that he wanted me to explain him the fresco. No chance there.

But he didn't seem angry. He was also saying something, but for the name of me- I had no clue what it was. All I could focus on were these eyes. Similar to Ptolemy's. Maybe even warm enough with something inside to be like Ptolemy's.

_ '' What's wrong? Tell me.''_

'' Hey, you can't daydream right now, as my bodyguard you have to be constantly on alert.'', stern look and fingers still curled on my shoulder spoke entirely different story.

_'' Promise to be honest, don't hold things back from me.''_

'' Bartimaeus?''

_ I never got to promise anything- his warm lips were already on mine. Tensed but gentle and sweet when they went from simple pressure to nibbing at my lips, getting them open in no time, only to dive in with that sensual tongue- _

Mandrake grabbed my whirst with grip of a volture and tugged me in direction of exit. Any other day I'd resist. At least verbally. But hey, give me a break- I was fucking confused! Half of my mind was still trying to shut down memories of Ptolemy that played under my eye lids, and then Mandrake! Was he _worried_? Or simply shizophrenic? What was he doing now? Getting us into main corridor? What for? But he didn't actually head toward the exit...

Less pompous hall opened before us and I was still silently letting myself being dragged by the shrimp. Word 'toilette' popped up from a discrete sign.

Why? Why toilette? If I had considered him any stupider than I already did, I wouldn't hestitate to mention that I have absolute no need for a toilette, thank you very much.

But, as it was, he pushed me into an empty stall and checked the rest of them. All clear.

Any doubts I may have had were erased when he slammed the door closed and pushed me, slowly but surely, against it. Fuck. I saw this coming, yet I wasn't any more prepared for it because of knowing it. Hell, most of _the other times_ I could predict it and it certainly didn't explain to me, only created more time to chew on my nails nervousy, indecisively.

_''Ptolemy...'', I said with slight unease, lifting my head to look at him. I hesitated, but not because kissing down his thin torso and stomach, which were still arching into my touch, felt wrong. No. It wasn't even unfarmiliar or new to me. Yet this, this boy under me was Ptolemy. It was Ptolemy's chest that was rising almost vehemently with heavy breathing. Dark eyes, shining with reflection of one candle, staring at me, so clouded with something heavy and great, were Ptolemy's, not just some uncaring stranger's._

_ ''Don't worry so much...''_

Eyes looking at me right now weren't like that, these were sharp and unreachable even when he framed me with his arms, our noses and inch away, then pushed his lips onto mine, ever so lightly. Against better judgement, I responded forcefully, kissing him without any grace or feeling- just trying to go along with whatever... this was- and it certainly wasn't time for some featherly kisses. He was so tensed, but unlike me held back, hands trembling as they traveled to my shoulders, then proceeded to my head, holding my face between his palms giving me feeling that I could burst. Maybe that's how he was feeling deep inside.

But I wanted none of this half-assed, distanced thing.

I grabbed him by hair, taking some control over our kiss, intruding his mouth with my tongue, half-expecting to taste some liquor. There was none of that. Only warm, soft human mouth and his tongue twisting along mine.

He let go of my head. Good- it became too much preassure. He went for my hips, pushed them against the wall. Just then did I realise that I had this need to press closer to him, relieve my tension with his heat. I broke our kiss, breathing heavily, yet my hands were still on the sides of his neck, intertwined in his hair. Black eyes were boring into mine for first time in months, swimming in lust. And I wasn't freaked out by it, for first time in 2000 years.

So fucked up.

Seemingly, Nathaniel didn't agree, he was so close that I felt his breath rushing out and colliding with my cheek. Still carefully observing, he grinded our hips together.

Unwillingly, my lips parted, inhaling needless breath, but our eye contact never faltered. That's why I caught that smug spark in them. _I_ would gladly punch it from his face, but my hips had will of their own, wanting to follow Nathaniel's by any costs.

He smirked evily, keeping me in place by mumbling one syllable of magic. So not fair. But little I could do against it, I was even thankful when he settled for a slow, torturing pace.

Fucking sadist. Using my grip in his hair I pulled him closer for another kiss. Bruising, yet again, it was relieving the pain of all this _need_. Out of old habit, my hand went down his back, trying to dig nails into something, but unable- that stupid shirt. Reaching lower and lower I pulled him closer by snaking one arm around his back. All protests were muffled in kiss. Nathaniel was quick to punish me, his teeth attacking my lower lip. But he refused change the pace of our hips which still driving me crazy. Desperate, I tried to pour my itch for more into grip on his hair, my other hand grabbed his ass in shameless plead.

There was a low growl, one I couldn't imagine coming out from this neat little boy, before he lifted me up by the wall, never breaking our kiss or hold on my hips.

All I could think was- closer, tighter, more- as my weight was driving me onto him, pressing us together, pushing out of me any kind of sane thought that I may still had.

* * *

Notes (explanations, only shortly, search on your own if you're interested):

_Ankh_- symbol for rebirth, life after death (or by some beliefs union of male and female- huh, yeah, funny that), it's usually held by gods and pharaohs on egiptian artwork

_Was_- scepter that symbolises power, dominion

_Khe_t- a lamp of sorts, can mean either sun (Ra) or fire in underworld (something like hell, where demons live ;)

_Rekhyt_- a bird, lapwing, which presents subjects, slaves

_Maat's feather_- symbol of truth, justice, morality, balance... it's used in ceremony (which Egiptians believed that happens after death) of weighing decedent's heart- judging if one is worthy of joining the gods

dear silver-wolf-demon-girl I hope this meets your expectations :) and thanks for no judging...

reviews are always appreciated ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Here you get another fill in chapter with Kitty! I kind of like to write her, but Bartimaeus is Nathaniel's, no doubt! Again, few facts about jinni are a bit twisted in my gain, but I blame for it! He didn't describe precisely how jinni's body works... Anyhow- enjoy reading!

**What once was precious **

Chapter 6

The cup of tea in front of me was cool by now, only few strings of smoke were still rising. Up, up, up in their wavery dance and slowly losing themselves, mixing with air around. Just like that, they were gone. Puff. With no sign that they ever meant anything.

Well thanks gods- this smelly steam was begining to really annoy me. Along with the fact that that stupid, old magician still, after heaven knows which visit, expected me to drink and eat human food. He and his _experiments_. (Or was it politeness?) Like I'd eat those biscuits, better say- rocks, even if my life depended on swallowing down shit that grew from dirt. Disgusting human needs.

'' How did your morning go, Bartimaeus?'', the magician asked me with tilted head, probably trying to include me in conversation that I was barely listening. Did that marid he often spoke of eat his brain along with the leg? I thought that I practically carried a flashing sign 'it's not my day' hanging above my head.

My morning, he asked? Since when this morning thing counted? Was coming home very late and then making love long in the night/morning also part of _the_ morning? Or did only that fucking awkward waking up (after stupidly short sleep) and sneaking away go under the morning title?

Does it matter? It's chatting. Answers aren't actually expected.

'' Peachy.'', I imitated his polite englishman smile. Annoying things, these small talks.

Yet, there wasn't much that wasn't annoying this particular morning. And all thanks to sensless, stupid, nasty, earthly human _needs_. Let me sum it up for you: I _woke up_ in _Mandrake's _bed in _Ptolemy's_ form all covered with dried human, Mandrake's!, _seed_, _naked_ exept blankets that were rather poorly wrapped around me and _his _arm was around _my _waist, _his_ head resting by the back of _my _neck. It serves to my honour that I didn't squeel and run off with one arm histerically flailing in air and other clutching at the blanket around me. And you can't even begin to imagine how this all fell on one jinni's mind. First off, I am not used to waking up. Hell, I'm not used to falling asleep in the first place! But somewhere at some point at night... after... uhh, yes, I guess I... just slipped into dream. It's not like it can't happen. Well, next thing that threw me off tracks, was being naked Ptolemy beside naked Mandrake. Can't I even trust my essence anymore not to change into Ptolemy? Was I losing my powers? Nah, can't be... if I felt too exhausted I could leave Earth to get some rest.

Instead I hung around London. When Mandrake didn't need me to be his bodyguard or his whore, I'd be a friend to Kitty, the girl didn't have many people around anyway, and every now and then we'd go to visit mr. Button, who, lucky guess, didn't have friends at all, and we'd drink tea with him. Hmm, someone who saw me in Kadesh battle, centuries ago, killing my enemies in _one_ blow, cutting off heads with _one single_ claw, scaring away bravest of soldiers with merely _one_ look, wouldn't recognise me now- sinking into small, brownish couch with one porcelain tea cup in my thin hands. From my place on the sofa, that was trying to swallow me into it's monotone, piteous life, I had a terrible want to scream and claw toward the sky with eerie howl 'why?' on my lips.

Instead, I had to satisfy my urges with killing a fly that landed too close to my smelly tea.

'' Kitty, dear, are you sure he is alright? He seems a little off today...'', mr. Button's question caught my attention.

Right, why was I getting the sick-kid treatment? Wait. No. No answering that! No, don't think. Thinking is bad right now. Very bad.

'' Huh? I'm fine, lively, lovely, jolly etc.'', I put down that cup, fearing it would crack in my hands that had sudden need to clutch and break.

Even humans didn't believe me. My acting skills surely are getting rusty.

'' Actually, mr. Button, I was hoping that you might answer my question... about jinni.'', Kitty started slowly, watching me attentively. From her look, I could guess she was up to no good. And I could practically smell it coming... _that_ queastion. She was sooo dead. Why did she bother in the first place? I knew all I needed to know, she heard it all from me, why would she need to bring mr. Button, of all people, into this?

Then again, I was too prideful to stand against her when it would only arise more questions. So I acted like I don't care. Which is true, by the way. Also I wasn't trying not to think about last night.

'' Uh, shouldn't you ask our jinni friend about it? Comparing to him, I know very little...'', his voice trailed off in fake humility, old man's eyes were dying to answer whatever she wanted to know.

'' But you see, Bartimaeus is very stubborn on not speaking about it...''

No shit. Let's talk about your sex life for a change.

Button looked between the two of us, Kitty leaning forward in her seat and I was trying to seem small and unimportant in my corner of the couch. I guess he was judging which one of our wraths will hurt less.

'' Then ask me, Kitty.''

Ouch, I can't even look scary anymore.

'' Please, don't get me wrong, but I was wondering... if you knew about demon and human... intercourses.'', she asked with straight, strictly-bussiness face.

Why did I suddenly feel like I'm visiting a therapist?

'' Uhh, right... I really think you should talk about it with Bartimaeus...'', old man started coughing and shifting in his armchair, ''It's between the two of you to discuss your intimacy-''

And my therapy became a couple therapy. Joy! My tired glance connected with Kitty who was only stupidly blinking for a moment.

'' No, no, no mr. Button, you got it all wrong!'', Kitty spoke quickly, having enough decency to blush now, '' It's not about me and Bartimaeus... It's about his master... and him.''

This was just so ridiculous... I wanted to protest, but even if I managed to get my voice what would I say about something I can't exactly put my finger on? Tiredness got the better of me.

'' Nice, Kitty. I give in. Ask me whatever you want! Will that satisfy your perverted curiousiy? You know, I could even tape it for y-''

'' Oh, _I_ am the pervert now!? What do you call that _rapist_ then?''

'' Here we go again! He is my _master_, he can do whatever he wants! That's the whole _point_ of summoning a jinni-slave!'', again, my explaining didn't work. Desperately, I addressed mr. Button:'' You explain it to her.'', I gave up, leaning back into couch with crossed arms.

She stopped attacking me, at last, but still steaming she stared intently at poor Button who seemed like he can't find a safe place to look at. In the end, his teacher side, one that obssesivly loved answering questions, took over so he started speaking steadily with a professor tone.

'' Well, I hate to disappoint you, but these intercourses between humans and demons are actually more common than you think, Kitty. Sometimes even married magicians take advantage of their slaves. It's never written of in historical scripts but you could say it's considered a... a tradition. Nowdays, magicians just hide it better than before. Other than that, there isn't much to tell about it... I know only theoretic part. Like... this intercourse can't result in an offspring... and it's mostly unwilling for the demon participant, since they don't have... the need, the instinct for mating, so it, strictly speaking, is a rape... like you said.'', he ended his short lecture with slight grimace, because- hey, he was still a magician- one that can never be a wrongdoer. I bet he _had_ a nice sucubus in his younger days.

'' You said 'mostly'.'', Kitty suddenly spoke up. She was unexpectedly calm and quiet during Button's story-telling. '' Mostly unwilling?'', she encouraged him to speak further. Poor Button, I thought again.

'' Right- mostly unwilling. See, that's what I always liked when you worked as my assistant- observant!'', he smiled proudly, but when her determination didn't falter even after she thanked him quietly, he just sighed saying: '' And determined. That too. Uhh, all I know is from the few legends here and there... some human and demon falling in love... Something like that Makepeace's play just less... idealistic. And before you ask me- I don't know- why, how or who. Even if it is true, magicians took care it stays burried in the past.'', he shrugged.

'' But you said yourself that demons don't have the needed sexual impulse! How can it be anything other than rape!''

She didn't actually want anything other than affirmative answer so she could rub it in my face. And Button's silence was as good as a whole lunged 'yes!'.

I so hated when she spoke with such certainty about things she didn't know. And I hated even more when someone insulted something, anything, Ptolemy-related. Also, I couldn't quite let her put all blame on Mandrake after... all.

Outside, it was raining again. I kept my eyes on window as I said:

'' ... doesn't have to be rape. I'm not defending all magicians, most of them are wholehearted pigs. Just, for sake of few who aren't... don't talk shit you don't know about, Kitty. Consensual sexual relationships between our species are rare, but not non-existant. Although we don't mate we can still feel. Physically and psychically.'', rythm of drops hitting the glass got quicker. Clouds got darker and heavier. Storm was coming.'' It's never spoken of because it's a disgrace. To both sides. And it can't end up good... human dies sooner or later.'', I shrugged it off the best I could while my nerves were getting stretched thiner and thiner.

'' Wait. Who are you talking about?'', Kitty was the first one to speak up. I knew it wouldn't take long before she figures out I wasn't talking about just anybody. Hey, that's Kitty for you, people-sensitive and all. And it also won't be long til she says a certain name.

Just... I wasn't sure which one out of two names will she pick.

A summoning hit me. Gripped like a vice, pulled at me from all possible directions...

It was Mandrake, for sure, yet this summon was sloppy, powerful indeed but... in rush. Something wasn't right.

'' Bartimaeus? What's happening, you're getting... blurry!'', Kitty almost jumped of the couch.

'' See ya later.'', I grinned widely, actually being happy for the summoning for the first time in my life.

* * *

Comment, or don't. Like, or hate. I'm here just to scribble author's notes cuz it's fun! :)


	7. Chapter 7

this one took long enough... but hey, I do have a life... sorta... when I don't have to study Latin...

Sorry for no updates for so long but better this way than if I fed you some half baked shit, nah? You all expected some big sex scene, and I was tempted to do that, but- it's my story! Things go the way I say they go! Also, I'm fucking insecure (when it comes to writing a lemon) and I chew half my nails waiting for the reviews... my point being- all your support (reviews, favs, follows) is very appreciated :)

Reminder: this is 7th of 8 chapters! 8th is more like an epilogue, conclusion etc.

Enjoy?

**What once was precious**

Chapter 7

I didn't waste my time on some roaring entrance or stunning appearance, I was Ptolemy again, in normal nowdays teen clothes. Maybe I should've taken some other form (no-Ptolemy politics around Mandrake, remember?) yet I couldn't quite focus on any guise from my wide library of those. Couldn't quite focus on anything exactly.

Maybe it was this heavy air around me. Or smell of desinfection alcohol that hung onto people dressed in all-white who were running around the person in the other pentacle. May be the shaky way the bounding spell was being placed over me.

And just maybe all my attention was on the magician who summoned me. He was finishing the spell under his breath, pretending that he wasn't surrounded by lot of some medics who were chripping at the same time. They were taking care of Prime minister! Big peak in their career! So no one really cared about Mandrake as they all tried to treat him at once. I know little of medicine but somehow I doubt that it took ten of them, minus three that were busy staring at me, to clean the bloody gash on the right side of his forehead. Even if there was a lot of blood- some still trickling from the wound, some already caked in his hair. But, hey, every injury in the head produces lots of blood, doesn't mean he's badly hurt, right? I mean, he was able to summon me.

If you didn't guess already, I was growing restless in my pentacle. Summoned and then just plain ignored- is that how you treat great ancient spirits? What happened that he needed me? Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he mute because of the hit? What else would prevent him from stomping around and cursing whoever destroyed his hair and face?

My legs took me, half conciously, the furthest the pentacle would let me, trying to find an angle that would allow me to study the pale boy better. Hell, I had this itch all over me to just jump out and shoo all stupid doctors away then finally get the order to go after the attacker. (Funny how it never crossed my mind that it could be an accident, guess I didn't find Mandrake clumsy/stupid enough to bang his head into something.)

I mean- that's why I was here, right?

Mandrake, even paler than usually, seemed to have the same wish as I (the shooing-doctors-away part). His long fingers were clutching armrests of his noble chair and somehow I knew it wasn't the pain from the injury. His feet were tapping on the floor, out of others' sight, rather nervously. Well, looking from his perspective I guess there was a reason. None teenager should ever worry about being attacked, yet there he was- boy of barely nineteen, the Prime minister of United Kingdom, probably the richest youngster here- getting his head fixed up. Now, when you sum up everything- it wasn't too surprising. It was to be _expected_, for a man, a boy, on his position. Hell, I helped to organise his guards, I _was_ his bodyguard at times, just to prevent this so expected event.

I had that saying 'history repeating' ringing like some mantra in my head. So true. I've seen many great kings, bold leaders, selfless heroes (not saying that he's any of that) get assasinated, I've seen _Ptolemy_ pass away because he possed too large threat.

Why was I still so stunned then?

Trying to catch his gaze, I crouched in my pentacle resting arms on knees, now in level with his eyes. Attentive black gaze followed my movement and locked with my eyes. It was hard to tell, but his pupils were eerily large at the moment. Best guessing- he was afraid.

'' Tripped over your feet or your ego, Mandrake?'', I asked none too sympathetic, loud enough for him to hear me over the doctors' preaching.

'' Guess you'd know from expirience?'', he answered, ignoring the docs. He was really out of it, level of his witty responses was falling.

'' Gapping head and sarcasm don't get along.''

Our conversation, one of great importance, was interrupted by a security guard's, human one, entrance.

'' Mr. Mandrake, the house is secured.'', he stated in that emotionless tone they all use. Something between 'stick is shoved up my ass' and 'stick is shoved down my throat'.

'' Didn't you tell me the same right when we arrived to the Parlament an hour ago? Should I remind you what happened then?'', my master asked pointedly, killing with his glare so efficiently that even those doctor-fleas stepped back.. Well I guess he had every right to do that since it was the guard's fault.

'' My apologies, but-''

'' I don't need excuses but results. Bartimaeus, make sure they do their job right. Also, I've summoned ten more jinni- organise them. Abbey,'', he spoke to the guard, '' show doctors the way out.''

Eleven jinni? Kid was exhausting himself! And now sending doctors away? Not good, nah-ah.

Unwillingly, they departed, advicing Mandrake to rest and blah, blah,. He nodded his way through, probably rembering as much as I did.

Not until the door was closed for sure and all of them led downstairs by Mandrake's guard, did I dare to speak.

'' What happened?''

He rubbed his face tiredly and finally moved from the pondering pose. Since he walked pretty straight and didn't trip over carpet I had to conclude that he was more or less fine. Magician paid me no glance when I stood up and joined him by window from where we could see an ambulance driving away, journalists and reporters still piling around his house.

Soooo... he definately didn't trip over.

'' Mind sharing those deep, dark, important thoughts with me?''

I got a quick, side look _and_ a shrug. Hey, at least we were talking, ehm- communicating, after a month of: ignoring from mine or his side/me teasing him, he smart-talking back/having that usual silent sex.

'' Right, so this must be one of those cases when human brain 'deletes' memory because it is too disturbing for the person-''

'' Shut up. It's nothing.'', Mandrake interrupted my diagnosis, eye twiching in annoyance.

Ha! It always worked! I congradulated to myself at the same time asking- fucking why did I try? Why was it important for me that he spoke up? But then again, I'm more of a jump-then-look-for-a-landing-place person so I just went along with sudden mother-hen impulse.

'' Mhm. Listen buddy, you were born with many fuck-ups and kinks yet open skull isn't one of them.'', I tried to cheer him up, point out bright sides, but for him glaring at the neighbour building had higher priority than me, ''It was an attempt on your life, wasn't it?'', I reached my hand to his forehead in an _innocent _(mark my words) try to see how bad he got hit.

Mandrake's eyes flickered to me faster than I thought possible, his hand caught mine like an attacking cobra and pulled me closer by it. Is sooo saw it coming! Sooo did!

Nevertheless, I was surprised like a fucking school girl when he did kiss me, hard and clumsy, our teeth meeting, but it didn't seem to matter to him as long as he got to plunge his tongue in my mouth. Force of this mouth-rape left me desperately caught in his arms, one still clutching my whirst, the other on my back, pulling me closer. He was so warm, hot even, when his arms locked around me, sliding over my lower back.

Part of me wanted to melt away right here, like last night, go with the flow and let myself enjoy.

Thanks god that there was also a rational part of me, the one wanting to jump out of my skin to avoid Mandrake's lips. And this time, joined with caring mother hen instinct, it was the stronger part.

'' What the fuck?!'', I stepped away from him, '' You're gonna just glue yourself to me every time your day doesn't go perfectly? Dude, let me clarify something for you- you just got hit in the head! Having sex isn't the first thing an injured person does!'', he tryed to look away through the window and pretend I don't exist, like so many times before. But this time he at least had decency to blush a little. Still- no response.

'' Great! Ignore me! That's all you do, after all, exept fucking me whenever you have a hole in your schedule!'', my voice picked up in it's frequency and I could fucking see myself standing in the middle of the room, yelling at his back, acting like a total hurt human she-man. Yet it felt good. I got in lots of arguments with Nathaniel before, but this was Mandrake, not ol' Nat, and I didn't get the... well- courage to go against him very often. But now? The twigy wanted to die from fucking after a head trauma? As if I'd let that happen! I didn't keep his sorry ass safe for years to see that happening! That would be like pissing on all my work through last decade!

My shouts finally got to him. Something, some dam holding everything behind finally broke.

'' Don't act like a pissy bitch!'', he even cursed when he faced me, all furious, his eyes bottomless. If I weren't even angrier than him I would step back and reconsider. Thanks to heavens that I weren't.

'' Me? A pissy bitch? Oh please, I wouldn't want to take your title.''

'' Just shut up! What am I supposed to do? Sit and cry that not all people like me?'', his voice was getting coarse as he picked up in volume, hands rising and falling forcefully.

'' Yes! You are a stupid human! And they tried to kill you! Crying! Shock! Fear! That's expected!''

'' Don't make me laugh. It already happened two times before! There are some anarchists after me- I'm a priminister, it is to be expected!'', he practically repeated my earlier thoughts. How cruel they sounded when said out loud...

Wait.

Two other times?!

'' And you were going to tell me that when!?''

'' I'm your master! Why would I tell you? You don't get to complain-''

'' Of course, my _master_.'', I started sarcasticly, but trying to calm the atmosphere with reasoning, if we continued like this he just won't hear me,'' But in your condition-''

A sudden smirk and scoff stopped me in tracks.

'' If you continue talking like that I might get an impression that you care, Bartimaeus.'', he teased, crossing his arms and tilting head, cruel smile tugging one side of his lips

But his eyes were off. They didn't fit in the whole careless stance.

I wanted to shout back some rather vulgar curse, maybe one of those Aztec which include much raping and bloodshed, but for anger that was shaking my body right now, it wouldn't be enough. I was angry that he didn't want to listen to me. I was furious that he was so careless about his own life. I wanted to jump out of my skin because he was so closed in his tiny shell! And above all, I was raging because I cared for his well-being more than he did, probably more than anyone else did.

Shouts weren't enough to experess it. Tears? Fuck those, even if I were able to cry. Sarcasm? Insults? Comments? None good enough crossed my mind.

'' Know what?'', I barely heard myself saying, ''Use that hole in your head, not me. Call this caring or whatever else you want, but I'm not fucking you into your grave.'', my voice was probably shaking like jelly, of fear or anger? Fear and anger?, but I paid no mind to anything other than his face. From snarling grimase it went into blank surprise, mouth gaping, trying to come up with a good retort, blinking, hardly comprehending those three sentences.

Can't blame him, I didn't understand myself either. At first I just wanted to prove my point but ended up, as I oftenly did, saying too much, right now I couldn't decide what I wanted more- deny all that I just said with some cruel joke or simply stay standing there, like someone pressed a pause when movie became too tense.

Frankly, in this pregnant silence, I felt more at piece than ever in last months. Relief, that was the strongest emotion on Nathaniel's face too. Maybe we were both just catching breath for further yelling.

And maybe not.

Only god knows who initiated it this time. It was enough counting. Like it even mattered when my lips met his, Nathaniel's hands reclaiming their spots on my waist, never having gone far. Our tongues slid along one another more gentle this time and our unconcious movements, as we leaned closer in other's embrace, were more fluid, surer than before. Skin of his cheeks was silky smooth under my thumbs, I realised now that I got the time to caress his face while he contined exploring with tongue through my mouth.

I would be ready to give up part of my eternity only for this, and similar actions, had my fingers not felt the edge of bandage on his head... which reminded me that there are more urgent things to do.

Picking up parts of my mushy brain together, I managed to say:

'' I'm gonna see now what kind of rubbish guards you found me to organise... stay alive til I return, 'kay?'', reluctantly I parted from him, glancing back on my way out.

One dumbfounded nod was all I needed.

* * *

Hmm. What to say? It turned out much different than it was originally planned... still good I hope... it's fucking difficult to write a touching scene and confesion with those two... -.-'


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